


Just visiting.

by wingedcorgi



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (mostly), Canon-Complaint, F/F, F/M, Gen, but also 3 seconds away from making out at any given time, platonic glitra, they're both clearly in love with other people, things happening offscreen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28337871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedcorgi/pseuds/wingedcorgi
Summary: Catra starts paying regular visits to Glimmer in Horde Prime's prison.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 130
Kudos: 439





	1. Glimmer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariatries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariatries/gifts).



> I wrote this as a Christmas gift to my dearest best friend Maria, who just so happens to be Glimmer personified. But I hope everyone else can enjoy it too!

As far as prisons go, Glimmer has seen worse.

The cell is brightly-lit, with plenty of space for stretching and nervously pacing around, there’s even a chair, a table, and a bed she can throw herself onto in her fits of despair. Certainly better than the chamber she was held in back at Fright Zone. The lack of magical restraints that would send an electric current through every inch of her body whenever she attempted teleportation is definitely an improvement.

Not that it matters much, seeing as she can’t teleport out either way.

She tries to count her blessings and stay positive, she really does. But the helplessness is truly getting to her. One minute she stares at the wall mindlessly, the next she remembers the sight of Bow and Adora fighting Prime’s clones back on Etheria and she jolts upwards, heaving as if she’s just ran for miles. She feels like crying and screaming, but that is about the extent of what she can do right now. She hasn’t spoken to Prime since their “dinner” and that was… she’s not even sure how long it’s been since. Two days? A week? With no day and night outside it was difficult to tell. Perhaps it happened only a few hours ago and she’s been slipping in and out of naps ever since.

Maybe this is Prime’s insidious method of torturing her. This bright cell hurting her eyes, this deafening silence around her, the clones bringing her meals at random times to confuse her… The hours of sitting cross-legged on the floor, not knowing what became of her friends, thinking of all the ways they could be dying right now and realizing it is all her own fault and there is nothing she can do about it now, nothing at all…

Or maybe it’s not and she’s doing all this to herself.

The guilt alone is enough to wreck her. She had plenty of time to reminiscence the past year and how terribly she’s treated her friends. How she used Adora repeatedly. How she betrayed Bow’s trust. There was a rift between them she created all by herself, and for what? She wanted to defeat the Horde, bring peace to Etheria and instead she caused its greatest disaster. And worst of all, she wasn’t even sure if she’s done it out of her sense of responsibility as a queen, or out of desire to prove herself to be more capable of a leader than Adora.

Some queen she is. Her mother would be so disappointed in her.

The sound of footsteps pierces through silence, so Glimmer looks up at the green half-transparent door of her cell. Prime’s clone no. 527, or whichever one that is, stands there with a tray of food. As she walks up closer to the door, he gives her a perfunctory nod with a small unaware smile.

“Here’s your meal, your majesty,” he says in monotone, then puts his hand up to the door. They flicker and disappear, just long enough for him to place the tray over.

Glimmer says nothing. She’s thought about performing some sort of an act of defiance – refusing food or throwing it at her guard’s face – but first she needs to come up with something this would achieve. So far she couldn’t think of anything useful.

The clone stands back and the door reappears, giving his ghostly white face a tinge of a hideous lime green. For a moment, Glimmer thinks she sees the light changing in his eyes, like a flickering lightbulb, as his smile fades and he walks away.

She walks up to the tray and examines the contents. The food looks relatively normal. The crackers look fine and the soup appears thick enough to stand a spoon up in, but at least it doesn’t resemble the space jelly. She picks the tray up and turns around to neatly place it on the table.

Then immediately drops it, seeing the person sitting in her bed.

“MOTHERF--!” she exclaims, before instinctively slapping her own mouth shut. She takes a deep breath before speaking again “What the HELL are you doing here?!”

Catra eyes her with a mildly curious expression, completely unfazed by her outburst. She looks as villainous as ever, in her dark suit and hair slicked back, pupils of her mismatched eyes turned into thin slits by the bright lights. As usual, she has a small, vicious smirk plastered on her face – Glimmer can hardly remember ever seeing her face without it.

“Visiting,” Catra says, voice sligthly hoarse, baring her pointy fangs in a smile. “Didn’t you see me coming in?”

Her voice is mockingly concerned and suddenly Glimmer feels like punching her. She doesn’t care if this would have any long-term benefits or not.

“How… When did you…?” Glimmer stammers indignantly.

“I have my ways, Sparkles,” Catra says, leaning against Glimmer’s pillows as if she’s never been more comfortable. Somehow her face is looking more punchable with every passing second.

“You don’t want to tell me,” Glimmer crosses her arms. “Fine. Would you at least let me know why you’re even here?”

“Who knows,” Catra says, dragging one of her claws lightly against the linen.

“You do, Horde scum,” Glimmer scowls. “Why are you here again?”

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Catra points out, acting as if she didn’t hear her at all and looking poignantly at the soup now spilled all over the floor. She stands up and strolls around the room at a leisurely pace. “How do you like it here?”

“The accommodation is amazing. Five stars. Food could use some improvement, though. The soup is thicker than your skull.”

Catra chuckles at that, to Glimmer’s surprise.

“Looks better than the last cell I’ve stayed at,” she said. Glimmer raises her eyebrows.

“Alright, I’ll bite. When was the last time you’ve stayed in a cell?”

“A little over a year ago.”

“Did they finally lock you up for being too annoying?”

“No, but funnily enough I think that’s what you’re in here for, princess.”

“It’s ‘queen’ now.”

Under any other circumstance, Glimmer would probably resort to violence already, consequences be damned. She still hated Catra – so much. Thinking of everything she’s done to her, her friends, family, kingdom… There were so many times Glimmer wished this pointy-eared menace would just straight up go ahead and die and she’s only ever stopped herself from vocalizing her thoughts to spare Adora’s feelings.

But as things are right now, Glimmer would honestly rather spend time with Catra, of all people, than be left to stare at the walls alone again. The solitude was suffocating and having someone other than Prime’s mindless clones to interact with her felt like a breath of fresh air.

The most infuriating, evil, punchable fresh air ever.

Plus, there was another thing – that time she cornered Catra in the Fright Zone. Glimmer gives it a lot of thought – lately she has all the time in the world for thinking – and still can’t think of a reason why Catra didn’t fight her back. And then what was her stepping in to stop Prime all about? And why did she come here to make small talk with Glimmer earlier?

Something is definitely off with her. It’s intriguing, and, if nothing else, a nice distraction from Glimmer’s own plight. So she tries to refrain from doing or saying anything that will surely chase Catra away immediately. Just pretend they’re having a normal, casual conversation.

They both say nothing for what feels like several minutes, Catra still avoiding Glimmer’s gaze. Eventually, she clears her throat.

“So, sleepovers, huh?” she finally says.

Glimmer looks up to see Catra with blushing cheeks and an expression that is decisively too intense for a question she’s just asked. It’s almost endearing.

“What about them?” asks Glimmer, feigning ignorance to Catra’s intentions, although her smile betrays her. The Force Captain takes a moment to regain some composure, though her face still glows with bright red. Then she crosses her arms and grumbles under her breath, “I don’t know why I even fucking bothered.”

Glimmer doesn’t even attempt to mask her grin anymore. It’s quite fascinating to see Catra’s entire demeanour change like that. It almost feels like she’s tripped on a curtain to reveal something Glimmer clearly wasn’t supposed to see. 

“We didn’t finish our last conversation, did we?” Catra huffs out.

“Clearly, one of crucial importance.”

“Are you honestly going to act like this?” She tenses her lips in a very childish pout. “Cause I can just leave.”

“Aaww, no, come on!” Glimmer laughs heartily. “I want to talk about sleepovers. I really do.”

“Wow, someone’s desperate,” Catra mutters, but pulls up a chair, turns it around and sits on it leaning forward on its back, glaring at Glimmer with her glowing eyes. “When was the last time you had one of those?”

Glimmer leans back on elbows, trying to remember.

“Probably… Maybe a few months ago? I’m not sure, really. Haven’t had much time for them over the past year.”

“What did you do? Besides cake theft, of course.”

“Played cards for a while, then turned in,” Glimmer takes a moment, considering something. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know… I mean like these special cards, that you can use to play different games with-“

“I know what cards are, muffin-face.”

“Sorry,” Glimmer raises her eyebrows. “It’s just that when Adora first joined us, there were so many things she’s never even heard of…”

“That’s because she’s a square, who wouldn’t dare to break the rules, no matter how dumb they were. We didn’t all live under a rock.”

“Are you sure that’s right?” Glimmer squinted her eyes at her. “Didn’t she… oh, I don’t know… stole a skiff with you the night we found her in the woods?”

“Oh, yeah. I used to bring out her wild side, you know. Sometimes… and don’t you dare tell anyone about this…” she leans in conspiratorially. “…she’d stay up past her bedtime with me.”

Glimmer snorts and tosses a pillow at Catra, only for her to catch it mid-air.

“Now you’ve got rid of your arsenal, Sparkles. Big mistake,” says the Horde commander with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, lifting up to sit on the pillow.

“Oh, joy. Now my only pillow’s going to smell like your butt.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be returning that anytime soon.”

“Just when I think my life can’t possibly suck any more, the enemy has me sleeping pillow-less.”

Catra flashes her sharp teeth in a grin again, but this time a whole lot less malicious. “Okay, so… Is that what you’d normally do at your sleepovers? Play cards?”

“We also had board games… We’d play charades… Truth or dare a few times…”

“Wow. Dirty.”

“Not THAT kind of truth or dare. It was mostly questions like ‘do you still sleep with a stuffed animal’ and dares like ‘go get me a soda’.”

“I always knew princesses were absolute fucking maniacs. You guys seriously need to calm down.”

“Oh, shut up!” Glimmer laughs, kicking the air in Catra’s vague direction, now that she’s lost her only projectile weapon. “How did your sleepovers look like then?”

“Well, let’s see…” Catra fixes herself on the chair. “Depends how old we were, I guess. When we were little, we’d mostly play The Brave Force Captain and the Ugly Bloodthirsty Princess.”

“Really? How did that look like?”

“What do you mean, you and I play it constantly.”

Glimmer casually gives her the finger.

Catra beams with pride of her own joke. “Okay, okay… we’d usually fight over who gets to be the Force Captain. Then Adora would usually let me win, because otherwise I’d pout and refuse to play. We made this shitty crown and a sword out of cardboard and we would tie our blankets around like capes…”

She says all this in a warm voice, that Glimmer’s never heard from her before. “That is… seriously adorable.”

“Tell that to Lonnie. She was always so pissed at us for not letting her sleep.”

“Why didn’t you just invite her to play with you?”

Catra shrugs, looking at the floor. “I don’t know. The two of us were enough, I guess.”

She takes a moment to pull the pillow out and poke it with her claws a little.

“Anyway,” she adds. “If we were ever to play charades together, Adora and I would absolutely destroy you. We had this…”

“Special secret language,” Glimmer finishes for her. Then, seeing her bewildered expression, adds “Adora’s mentioned it only like a million times. It’s so sweet, it makes me want to puke.”

Catra goes quiet again for a long while. She stands up, eventually, and takes another stroll around the cell, hugging the pillow to her chest.

“There’s really nothing to do here, is there,” she says when she finally speaks again. “I should bring something next time.”

“Next time?” Glimmer carefully inquires.

“Unless you don’t any Horde scum coming here. I don’t have to.”

“No,” Glimmer interjects quickly. “It’s… fine.”

She smiles to herself a little. “Can I make a list of things for you to bring me?”

“Absolutely not,” Catra says, finishing her walk by hopping up to sit on the tabletop, as if the chair isn’t right there.

“Cool. So, I want a bar of lavender soap… a couple of magazines… actually, make that a gift basket…”

“The only thing you can have is this,” Catra throws the pillow back at her, but not before licking it first.

“Eeeww…” Glimmer picks it up by a corner, trying not to touch the drooled spot. “You’re disgusting.”

“Thanks, Sparkles.”

“Do you mean it about coming here again, though?”

“Oh, who knows. You certainly don’t exactly have a great track record for being able to tell when I’m bluffing.”

Glimmer thinks back to the day she’s managed to – accidentally – take Catra prisoner. Apparently her response to being kidnapped was to bluff relentlessly and annoy her captors into letting her go. It was actually a fairly effective strategy.

“That was years ago. I got better.”

“Is that so? Want to put your skills to a test and ask me something?”

“I would ask you about what’s going on on Etheria, but I assumed you don’t know anymore than I do.” She means that in a casual way, but realizes all too late how accusatory it sounds.

Catra’s ears twitch ever so slightly, but there’s really no hiding it in those terrible bright lights.

“Either that, or I’m not stupid enough to tell my enemy.”

Glimmer nods, deciding to let her have this one. She probably overstepped a boundary in their weird, fragile dynamic, so fair enough.

Although, it makes her wonder – for Catra to be this touchy about it, it must mean she’s really been side-lined by Horde Prime quite profoundly. Why else would she be wasting her time sneaking in here to talk about sleepovers of all things?

The last thing Glimmer wants, though, is to chase Catra away for good. She frantically tries to think of something that would quickly steer the conversation into more neutral areas.

“So…” she attempts. “Have you ever had a crush on Adora?”

She can instantly tell this had the desired effect of diverting Catra’s attention from the previous subject, as she stares at her with a blankly shocked expression. Glimmer hasn’t seen anyone blush so hard since Adora found the stache of magazines she kept under the mattress.

“What,” says Catra hoarsely. She fixes her eyes on Glimmer, her tail swinging violently behind her.

“Well, I’m just saying…”

“You know, I’ve heard that solitary confinement can drive you insane, but honestly, I did not expect it to happen this fast.”

“Come on! You always talk about her, you can’t possibly blame me for thinking… And look! That time at the Princess Prom!”

“What about it? Everyone was dancing with everybody then. I even danced with you of all people, I recall.”

“Right before you kidnapped me, I remember. But only a certain feline Horde scum decided to spend the night all over the big muscle lady only when Adora was paying attention.”

“You think that was to make her jealous?”

“I mean, it was about as subtle as Entrapta’s droids.”

“And what, are you worried that I’m going to swoop in and steal your girl away?”

“My-,” Glimmer stops abruptly, then turns to stare at Catra. “Oh. Oooooh.”

“Wh-what?”

“Nothing. I see what you’re doing there, that’s all,” Glimmer isn’t sure if she finds this conversation or Catra’s changing expressions more amusing. “We’ve never been dating. She’s like a sister to me.”

“Pff, this isn’t even-,” Catra’s ears twitch as she freezes in a spot.

She stands up without making a sound and approaches the green door.

“What…” Glimmer attempts, only to get shushed by her.

Then she starts hearing the steps nearing too.

“He’s here to pick up your tray,” Catra whispers. “I need to go.”

“What? No, wait, you can’t just…”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Now act natural, don’t look at me.”

As a clone appears at the end of the corridor, Glimmer sees Catra’s shape settling herself by the side of the door. It’s impressive how she manages to make herself barely visible while bathed in those lights.

The guard finally walks up and uses his hand to deactivate the door, his eyes fixed on Glimmer. With the corner of her eye, she sees Catra dashing out soundlessly, leaving the clone none the wiser.

“Your highness… Oh,” the clone says, noticing the wreckage that was left of her meal. “That is unfortunate. Allow me to get something to clean this up. We wouldn’t want our cherished guest to be uncomfortable in her room.”

He steps out, a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes now fading, and closes the green door. Glimmer finally lets her eyes dash to the spot where she’s last seen Catra.

She wonders if she’s truly planning on coming back.

Or whether this whole conversation was some sort of a fever dream.


	2. Catra

Horde Prime’s trophy room has a high ceiling and floors made of something Catra would guess is marble. The walls are lined with a whole variety of impressive objects, ranging from weapons that would put Adora’s sword to shame, to pieces of technology which Entrapta would go insane over, all neatly draped in a choice of flags from the conquered planets. A glass display full intricately made shields is flanked by two rows of swords, spears and sceptres hung decoratively, each in it’s own perfectly calculated spot. Catra sees the magical staff that belongs to Sparkles among them and her stomach twists just a little.

Eventually, she swipes what looks like a deck of cards with splotches of ink on them, warily glancing at the door. She knows the chances of anyone sneaking up without her hearing it first are incredibly slim, but this place is making her paranoid. It feels simultaneously overwhelmingly modern and haunted. It reminds her of the Crystal Castle, which up until a few days ago, was the once place she disliked more than the Fright Zone.

Now this ship was another strong contender.

The cards might not be the coolest steal of her career, but at least they were easy enough to pocket – it’s not like she could have hid an enormous melee weapon behind her back when passing a stray clone. Still, small acts of defiance always did wonders to relieve her frustrations, whether it was scratching out a rude word on Lonnie’s locker, or fist fighting an entire bar in the Crimson Waste.

When Prime first took her onboard his ship, it felt like she was being rescued. She’d burned all of her bridges back on her home planet, the princesses hated her for destroying their kingdoms, the Horde hated her for being a bitch, Hordak hated her for sending Entrapta away – she may have very well been the most despised person on Etheria. And as much as she tried her best to brave through everything and act like she was in control, she was the only person who knew just how much she was drowning.

Well, and Double Trouble, perhaps. They also, infuriatingly, seemed to have a good idea.

And then Horde Prime came along and whisked her away from a dead end she drove herself into. Prime gave her a clean slate and another opportunity to climb her way to the top. She instantly felt so relieved and hopeful. Maybe only a little disappointed.

Catra had never been the strongest of the bunch, but if there was one thing she was great at, it was finding her opponent’s tell and using it to her advantage. That was how she could beat up thugs twice her size, give Adora such a hard time in battle, defeat Shadow Weaver, even force Hordak to give her control over the Horde. She had a talent for noticing all weaknesses from a sore ankle to a ridiculous hero complex, and she made exploiting them her very own method or survival.

But it’s been days and she was yet to find a single weakness in Horde Prime.

Despite having a vaguely person-like shape, he feels more like a machine than most of the Fright Zone droids. There are no fears or needs to be satisfied, only a singular higher purpose he pursues without much of an emotional response. There is no way for Catra to manipulate someone like that. She can’t even think of a way to be of use to someone like that.

And if that is the case, then why is he even keeping her here?

He asked her for nothing since their meeting, his every whim fulfilled by an army of fully disposable clones that act as extensions of himself. No way she can compete with this level of nepotism. There are plenty of chambers she has no access to, including most of Etheria’s surveillance. Her chamber is no different than Glimmer’s, save for the force field doors keeping her inside. She’s not naïve and knows that at this point she’s just as much of a prisoner as Sparkles, yet for the life of her, she can’t understand to what purpose.

It’s frustrating, and confusing, and quite exhausting.

And honestly, she just can’t bring herself to care much anymore. If he wants her dead, fine – she can’t exactly stop him in any meaningful way. And it’s not like there is anyone else who would care whether she lives or not. It’s just so annoying not knowing what he plans for her, if anything at all.

Oh, and that little trick he tried to pull on her, acting like she still cares about Adora? As if.

There is very little she can do to get back at him, though. So she takes pleasures in exacting those little acts of revenge – marking the walls with her claws. Stealing some useless crap. Sneaking into Glimmer’s cell. Just because she was told not to, because, whatever. She doesn’t care.

The winding maze of identical corridors eventually lead Catra to the vicinity of the kitchens, where she finds a good spot to watch the doors without being seen. At least she’s managed to discover that Prime does not, in fact, see everything, but only the things his clones can see. And since their hearing is much worse than hers, sneaking around them isn’t much of a challenge - she’s no stranger to avoiding security cameras.

Her timing is immaculate, she barely manages to take a seat before a clone walks out of the kitchens carrying a tray of food for Glimmer. She waits for him to walk past her hiding spot, then proceeds to follow in his footsteps all the way up to the holding cell, where she takes her place by the side of the huge green door. The guard’s gaze is fixed on their pink prisoner, sitting on her bed as usual, dangling her chubby legs over the edge. He pays absolutely no attention to Catra slipping inside the moment the doors disappear, like a shadow. He places the tray on the floor, bows to Glimmer, steps back. And soon, the force field resumes it’s low buzz and takes a lime tingle again. Yes again, she’s in, with Prime none the wiser.

She waits for the clone to leave, before daring to make a sound.

”Hey, Sparkles,” she makes herself known and smiles triumphantly when Glimmer gasps and jolts up.

”Oh, for the love of—… do you always have to do that?” she turns around and places hands on her hips, trying her best to look absolutely furious. ”It wasn’t funny the first time!”

”Oh, but it was. And it will be just as funny the third time,” Catra leaps onto the tabletop, where she pulls up her legs to hug them. “Why are you being so jumpy, anyway? You knew I’d be coming.”

“I wasn’t sure you meant it,” Glimmer grumbles, picking the food tray off the floor. “And get your smelly feet off, this is where I eat!”

“Whatcha got this time?”

“Eh… Some sort sort of… crackers? I hope?”

Catra eyes the tray curiously, then reaches out to steal one off the queen’s plate.

“Better you than me,” Glimmer sighs, placing the tray on the table next to Catra.

“Come on. If there’s one thing you can be certain of, it’s that no one here is going to poison you,” Catra says before taking a bite. “Jufft… Ffink about it. If Prime wanted to kill you, he’d have done that already. And there’s like a million easier ways to do it.”

“Well, yaaaay, I guess,” Glimmer slides down into the chair, watching Catra stuff her face with another mouthful of maybe-crackers from a bowl. “Don’t they feed you out there at all? Is that why you came here, to steal my food?”

“Oh, right!” Catra claps her hands, having swallowed the last of her bite. “I got something.” She pulls the deck of cards out of her pockets and ceremoniously places them in front of Glimmer, who squints her eyes at them.

“What are these?”

Catra sighs. “Well, you see, sometimes you have these special cards, and you can use them to play…”

Glimmer throws some of the bowl’s contents at her.

“I meant, none of these are similar to one another. And they look like someone’s just spilled a whole lot of ink into their drawer and had to toss them out. How do we play them?”

Catra lets out another sigh. At this rate her lungs will likely run out of air soon. “So sorry I risked my life to steal them from Prime’s trophy room in the heist of the century and didn’t linger behind to check if these came with any instructions, your majesty.”

“You did that for me?” Glimmer grins at her. “Aww, babe. You should have just asked me to dinner…”

“It wasn’t for you, princess.”

“Just so you know, lilac flowers are my favourites and I’ve always dreamt of a wedding in spring…”

“Ugh, I hate you so much!” Catra attempts to push Glimmer off the chair as she laughs hysterically at her own joke.

For a moment, Catra feels a small sting of embarrassment for feeling this carefree around her. She still hates Glimmer, of course she does - how can she not hate someone who is basically the antithesis to her? Even the way she looks is all soft curves and pink pastels and cute glitter and Catra, well, let’s just say one of the older cadets once said she looks like someone tried to draw a person and suffered a seizure with a pencil still in their hand - he’s earned a permanent scar for that. Catra was the chief commander of the Horde back on Etheria, and Sparkles is the queen of Bright-fucking-Moon. The two of them hanging out together like it’s nothing would almost be funny, if it wasn’t so thoroughly sad for the both of them.

But the other, bigger part of Catra just can’t bring itself to care anymore. The quick rhythm of banter between them brings her a soothing sense of familiarity. It’s enjoyable, so, why not? There’s no reputation or status she even has left that this would destroy. She certainly doesn’t care what Glimmer thinks of her of all people. Realistically, the chances of the both of them getting murdered by Prime at some point are fairly high. They might as well play cards and throw crackers at each other.

Still, Catra is very much determined that she will never like the person who took Adora away from her.

Glimmer takes the cards and settles down on the bed, spreading them all around herself and studying each one with an intense expression.

“Where do you think he got these from?” she asks.

“Dunno,” Catra slides down gracefully to sit crossed-legged beside her. “Some planet he’s blown up into bits ages ago, I presume.”

“Kind of a morbid collection he’s got there, doesn’t he?” Glimmer says grimly, sliding cards over the floor to set them in a neat row. “Anyway, it doesn’t look like we can play any game I know with those. The backs don’t even look anything like each other.”

“You might lack creativity, Sparkles.”

“Oh, yeah? Fine, then. Here – tell me what this one reminds you of?” She picks up a card and shoves it into Catra’s face.

“Uh,” Catra says in response. She takes the card from Glimmer’s hand and analyses the shape. “Okay, um… a cloud.”

The queen of Bright Moon makes a long, loud fart noise. “And you say I lack creativity? I’d honestly struggle to think of an answer that’s lamer than this.” She hands her another card. “Try again.”

At this point Catra stops counting how many times she’s sighed since entering this cell. “Fine. Ugh. Let’s see…” She pauses, pursuing her lips. “Looks like… a dragon, flying through the sky, and blowing fire out of his ass.”

She points out the latter in the picture to prove her point. Glimmer scratches her chin, pensive. “Unexpected, cool, and a little disgusting. Just like you. I will accept this answer.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

“You’re welcome to try, Horde scum. I thought this looked like a cake someone took a bite out of.”

“You must be on some serious sugar withdrawal, huh?”

“I’m literally dying here.”

Catra reaches to grab a handful of crackers and puts her hand up to Glimmer’s mouth. “Here, this should lessen the pain.”

“I’m not a horse,” she attempts to smack Catra’s hand away, as she laughs and spills the crackers all over the floor. “Pick another one, you weirdo.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be your turn?” Catra asks, but chooses a card anyway. “Oh. Hmm.”

“What is it?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m thinking.”

“You’ve already thought of something, so tell me.”

“Well…” Catra hesitates. “I did think of something, but I shouldn’t say it with minors present.”

“I see no minors here.” Whether consciously or not, Glimmer straightens her back, as if trying to look taller.

“How old are you?”

“Turned eighteen recently.”

“You’re practically a fetus then.”

“Oh really, how old are you, like _twenty_?” she huffs, face turning just a little more red than pink.

“Twenty-one. Same as Adora.”

“Yeah, you’re practically grandmothers. Tell me what you see.”

Catra slides herself up closer to show Glimmer the card.

“See this oval shape here… and then these two circles…” she points out each one with her claw. “And then this thing around it?”

“Yeah, it looks like some sort of a tower, what about-…” Glimmer stops abruptly, as red spills on her cheeks. “Uh, _Catra_!”

“You insisted!” Catra laughs, as she gets pushed down and lands on the floor.

“ _Dirty_.”

“Yeah, well, that’s me.”

“It _is_ you, alright.”

“Okay, okay,” Catra reaches out to point at another card, inexplicably getting invested in the game. “Now you. Go.”

It doesn’t take long for Glimmer to come up with an answer. “Oh, I know, it’s like… the top of this ship! You know, the one we’re on?”

“The Velvet Glove?”

“The… I’m sorry. What were those words that just left your mouth now?”

“The Velvet. Glove,” Catra repeats, through chuckling already.

“You’re joking. I don’t believe this is what it’s called.”

“I swear it is.”

“And you know it sounds like a… a euphemism for…”

“Oh, I do.”

“And does Horde Prime?...”

“I don’t think so, no.”

They share a look, then burst out laughing in unison. When Glimmer squeezes Catra’s shoulder briefly, she feels a flash of warmth in her stomach that she doubts has anything to do with the possibility of crackers being poisoned.

“I can’t tell which is worse. The rebellion getting our asses kicked by someone who named their ship ‘The Velvet Glove’, or me being prison buddies with someone who sees genitalia in spilled ink onboard of it.” Glimmer lunges herself on the bed, all giggly.

“Prison buddies?” Catra tries to settle down, leaning on Glimmer’s knees, though her face is still split in a grin. “I’m one of your captors, remember?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, that’s what you’re _saying_.” Glimmer smiles at her, more friendly than ever.

But Catra lifts herself up, suddenly feeling all the humour evaporating from her.

“That’s because I am,” she says, voice strained at the edges.

“Uh, sure, but…”

“What, do you think I’m being held prisoner here?” she can hear her own voice rising in pitch.

Glimmer sits up, expression blankly perplexed. Her mouth opens and closes a few times soundlessly.

“I’m…” she stutters out, rubbing her lower lip in a self-soothing gesture. “Well, uh. Kind of. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Catra balls the fists at her sides. The warmth is back, spilling all over her insides, though it’s nothing like the comforting excitement she’s felt barely seconds ago. “I work for Horde Prime. I _wanted_ to be here.”

“Okay, I know,” Glimmer says carefully, slumping forward a little. “But… Well, it’s just that… There’s been a bit of a development, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean… You know!” she waves her arms around in frustration. “All of this? Do I really need to say it?”

She doesn’t. She really doesn’t, because Catra knows what she means perfectly well. But she feels it coming again, this hot ball of rage in her chest that’s about to blow up again, because it’s one thing for her to know how screwed she is, and another for this pink, carefree, sparkly, entitled little princess to have the nerve to point it out to her.

Glimmer plants her palms flat on the bed.

“You said you were going to rise to the top again at Prime’s side, right? But you know that’s just not going to happen,” she says. “Prime isn’t the kind of person who needs anyone by his side. You’ve seen how he’s dealt with Hordak already! This isn’t even about loyalty or usefulness with him anymore, he’ll get rid of anything and anyone that he cannot completely and fully control, and you weren’t exactly someone who liked to follow orders to begin with, were you?”

Every word she says is painfully correct and Catra absolutely can’t stand it. She feels her tail bushing up and doesn’t even bother hiding it.

“So what the hell do you suppose he’s keeping me in here for? Fucking decoration?” she slices her hand through the air. “Hordak couldn’t even take Etheria when the Rebellion was at its weakest. I was the one who took over and conquered Etheria for Prime. If it weren’t for me, he’d never even know we existed!”

“Oh, screw that! Don’t pretend you’ve done that for him, or even the Horde for that matter!” Glimmer finally stands up in a wide stance. “You wanna know what he’s keeping you in here for? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I swear, if you say her name right now, I’m going to scratch your face bloody. I’m already dangerously close.”

“Well, go ahead then! Might make you feel better! Maybe once you’ll bleed me out, you’ll calm down enough to comprehend that you’re not a Horde commander, you’re not even a soldier anymore, because the Horde as it was just doesn’t exist anymore. Prime is going to wipe out the Fright Zone and everyone in it along with the whole planet without giving it a second thought. Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Fuck you,” Catra spits.

“Yeah, fuck me. I’m sure it’s so much easier to rip the world apart, destroy our planet, kill my mother, or murder the only person who’s ever loved you than to simply admit that you might have been wrong!” Glimmer jabs her finger at Catra’s chest.

Before Catra can think of a retort, her ear twitches unwillingly towards a soft sound of footsteps in the distance – the guard coming to pick up Glimmer’s tray.

Without a word, Catra walks up to her spot by the door, struggling to keep her hands from shaking. As the clone comes in to collect the tray, she wonders for a moment if Glimmer is about to expose her, but she says nothing, just watching the entire scene unfold with lips pursed tightly.

Once the green door reappears again, Catra stays in the shadow, breathless, for just enough to cast one last hateful look towards the cell. She realizes they’re two small drips of blood on the floor – she’s been pressing claws into her palms too strongly.

The second the clone’s footsteps fade in the corridor, she walks away without looking back, leaving Glimmer alone in the cell, cards still spilled out on her bed.


	3. Glimmer

It’s been days since Catra furiously walked out of the holding cell and yet, for some reason, Glimmer cannot stop thinking about their fight.

She’s tried, of course, but there is very little to distract herself with. She walks around the cell, studies the floor pattern, traces her finger over the table, all to stay away from those stupid cards, hidden underneath the mattress. But eventually, her thoughts always drag her back to Catra, standing stiff with her arms crossed, tail swinging, ugly green light flickering on her furious face that carefully conceals fear. Glimmer is angry for letting herself be so preoccupied with it – it’s not like she hasn’t had fights with Catra before, in fact, this was probably the least deadly one they’ve ever had so far. So what’s different now? Is it just because there is literally nothing to do but mull it over? Or is it because in some bizarre, almost surreal way, for a brief moment it felt like the two of them had a shot at being something akin to friends?

Glimmer thinks, as she paces back and forth between the two walls, the dumbest thing about this is that Catra is literally the last person she’d ever want to be friends with. She vividly remembers Adora, having freshly joined the rebellion, talking about the Horde so solemnly, like she was embarrassed of it, but her tone would always change when she mentioned Catra. Her entire face would light up as she recounted all the mischief the two of them were up to, all the fond memories of them hiding up on their “roof spot”, all the times Catra’s done something cool or funny or otherwise amazing. “Oh, this reminds me of the time Catra and I were sitting up in my bed and talking…” this, and “I can’t wait for you guys to meet Catra, she’s the most clever and hilarious person ever…” that, with a side of “Look, I just know she’s not a bad person, she’s bound to join us soon enough…”. Glimmer and Bow even had to develop a new type of conspicuous stare between them to use whenever Adora mentioned Catra unprompted yet again.

And then, she actually met Catra.

The cognitive dissonance was staggering, to say the least. It’s not that she was counting on the Horde’s Force Captain to actually greet her with open arms, but she expected her to be at least a little bit similar to how Adora’s described her. Just 5% similar, she wasn’t being demanding. But in the end, a ruthless, spiteful and selfish brat, who’d burn the world down just to annoy Adora, was all there was. Glimmer couldn’t see even the slightest glimpse of a person her friend had described, and the more encounters they’ve had, the more certain she was of her judgement.

Over time, Adora spoke of Catra less and less often. This past year, she’d barely mentioned her and appeared to visibly tense up every time someone would as much as mention her former best friend. It seemed like even she’s realized that Catra is someone absolutely beyond anyone’s reach. She was evil, full stop.

But then, the past week happened.

There was nothing utterly worldview-shattering about their recent encounters, exactly, and nothing that couldn’t also be explained by Catra being shelved by Prime and bored beyond herself. But beneath it all, there was… something. Glimmer finally saw it, that tiny little glimpse of the smart, determined and mischievous girl Adora’s always been talking about. Turns out she wasn’t dead or non-existent after all and there was something fascinating about it. Something… hopeful.

And so Glimmer spends hours staring at the ceiling, replaying their fight in her head, imagining all the possible scripts for what she should have said. She’s came up with some killer arguments for the next time she sees her, really. Shame she doesn’t have anything to write them down with – she’s a big fan of the “if you hate Adora so much, why are you so obsessed with her?” one, but phrasing needs a bit of work.

It would be great to have Bow here - if only to have him confirm that she was actually fully in the right throughout the argument and it was only Catra who needed to apologize. Somehow, as days went by, Glimmer began losing a lot of her confidence in that.

She finds herself scanning the whole cell every time a guard brings food. Once, she even felt compelled to check under the bed, as if Catra would try to jump-scare her again in retaliation. But she hasn’t shown up once, not even to gawk at her through the door and gloat. It’s been several days and Glimmer found herself slowly losing hope that Catra would ever show up again.

And then one day, as she sits on the bed, watching a clone walk away with an empty tray, she looks up to have her gaze met by a pair of glowing eyes in a bushy-haired, triangle-eared shape by the door.

Catra doesn’t say anything at first, only locks eyes with Glimmer, expression unreadable. They stare each other down for what feels like several minutes.

“You’re here,” Glimmer says eventually. She suddenly forgets every single witty line she’s been rehearsing.

Catra just nods, not taking her eyes off of her. Another few tense seconds pass.

“Did you just come here to stare at me?” Glimmer asks, realizing her eyes are starting to water. She is yet to see Catra blink even once.

Catra takes her time. “I brought this,” she finally shifts and Glimmer notices her hand is curled around the neck of a large glass bottle.

Glimmer’s eyes squint. “Is that..?”

“Booze. I think. It smells like it,” Catra says, uncorking the bottle with ease using her claws. “Tastes like booze too. And yes, I tried it and I lived.”

They lapse into silence again. Glimmer realizes one of her knees started bouncing impatiently and wills it to stop.

“So… do you want to share?” she asks, trying to sound casual.

“Do you?”

“Catra,” Glimmer sighs. “Look, about what I said-“

“I also brought some pens and paper,” Catra interrupts. “Figured we might think of something to do with them. Keep the score, if nothing else.”

“Okay, but-“

“No,” Catra says firmly, setting the bottle on the table with a loud clink. “We’re not continuing that conversation.”

Glimmer is already sick of having to look up so much, so she stands up. She really hates that inch Catra has on her. “We can’t just pretend like we didn’t argue!”

“Sure, we can. I can stay and we can pass some time getting wasted and doing some dumb shit. Or you can tell me to leave and I will.”

“You can’t leave, the door’s locked,” Glimmer puffs her cheeks out. “And it’s going to be a few hours before any guards come here again, they just took the tray back.”

“I can call out for them and turn myself in,” Catra shrugs. “You probably won’t see me again, but then again, that’s the idea.”

She sits herself on the table again, legs swinging wide apart. Damn, she’s annoying.

For a moment, Glimmer considers her options – she doesn’t like leaving the fight unresolved, especially when she feels like she’s owed an apology. Last year she’s had her fair share of unfinished arguments that just built up on top of each other until exploding in a disaster. And that was with _Adora_ , one of the most reasonable people she knows.

But on the other hand, it’s possible that simply returning here was as far as Catra was willing to go right now. She was already stretching the limits of her pride and stubbornness and Glimmer wouldn’t put it past her to really turn herself in to avoid a tough conversation. She’d rather not push it too much.

Not that she cares all that much what happens to Catra, but it felt just a little lighter to have some company here. Even at the cost of pausing an argument.

Glimmer reaches for the bottle and, without hesitation, takes a hearty swig. It’s rich and sweet, reminds her of the red wine she once tried in secret in the Bright Moon cellars.

“That should make it easier to deal with your sorry ass, at least,” she grumbles and feels an odd sense of relief seeing Catra finally crack a smile, even if she gives her the finger as she does.

They end up seating themselves behind the bed, so that it hides them from the outside view, playing several rounds of card games, which they both make up as they go. Their creativity is directly proportional to the amount of alcohol they consume and soon enough the game rules grow too elaborate to keep track of.

Glimmer is already plenty giddy when she slaps both hands on her knees to yell out: “A DRINKING GAME!”

“Isn’t this what we were doing this whole time?” Catra asks, leaning against the bed, laughing and clutching the bottle to her chest. “We’re drinking and playing a game?”

“No, no, but like… Let’s put some competition into it!” Glimmer hears herself half-yelling. “We can play… two truths and a lie. Or, assumptions!” She points a finger at Catra excitedly.

“What the hell is assumptions?” Catra can clearly hold her liquor a little better, but a little swaying to the side betrays her almost as much as giggling.

“We make assumptions about each other, duuuh,” Glimmer waves her hands impatiently. “If we get it wrong, we drink, if we get it right, the other one drinks.”

“That’s a terrible idea! We can just lie, or, I can just use what Double Trouble told me about you or, you can use what Adora told you about me. If she told you anything,” Catra adds quickly.

“We’ll just… promise not to. If you don’t want to tell me something, just say so. Then… we both drink.”

“We’re going to run out of this very quickly.” She lifts the bottle, where the liquid still splashes in the bottom half.

“Then you’ll go get another one!” Glimmer decides.

“Pff,” Catra huffs. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m about to be assuming some insanely personal stuff. None of the ‘your favourite colour is pink’ bullshit.”

“HA! It’s purple! Drink up!”

“I said, none of that-“

“Drink up, drink up, drink u-“ Glimmer nearly falls over, when Catra slaps her mouth shut. She promptly decides to slobber all over it.

“Eeewww… You’re gross.” Catra says, wiping her hand over leggings. “And that’s not an assumption, that’s an assessment.”

Glimmer extends her legs and takes a deep breath, forcing her gaze to bring Catra into focus.

“Alright, alright...” she pierces her with her gaze, as if that were to help her deduction. “You… are… into… women.”

Catra throws her head back and groans. “You might have as well said ‘you have a tail’.”

“Ha! So I’m right?”

“It’s obvious!”

“A win’s a win!” Glimmer triumphantly gestures at the bottle and Catra takes a dignified sip. “Hey, if you were to pick one princess to have a fling with… Except Adora, cause of your history, and me, cause I’d smoke everyone out, obviously. Who would that be?”

“Is that a part of the game?”

“It’s a different game. That I made up just now.”

Catra makes a wistful face. “Maybe the water princess. I think there is something hot about the way she fucking hates me.”

“You think that sets her apart from the others?”

“Oh, screw you.”

“I thought you’d pick Scorpia for sure.”

“You thought wrong. What’s your pick, then?”

“I’m not sure it’s ethical for me to make that choice. They’re my subordinates.”

“Yeah, yeah..?” Catra flicks her wrist dismissively.

“Maybe… Netossa. She’s bossy, competitive and hot. I think this would be… quite an experience.”

“Just say you actually want me so bad.”

“In your dreams, Horde scum.” Glimmer blows her a kiss.

“Okay, my turn,” Catra says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You have the hots for your bestie.”

Glimmer feels a wave of warmth creeping up her face that has nothing to do with the alcohol. She straightens her back, then reaches out to take a swig. When she looks again, she finds Catra watching her wide-eyed and bemused.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Glimmer states proudly. “Why would I be? He’s a babe.”

“Never thought I’d hear someone who makes arrows that turn into… Shoes, or, whatever, called a ‘babe’.”

“Am I not full of surprises?”

“Did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

“So you’d want to?”

“I guess?” Glimmer sighs, hugging the bottle. “I don’t know. He might hate me a little bit now.”

“Oh, please. You fucked up the world like, once. I’m sure you’ll just kiss and make up.”

“Eh,” Glimmer feels the familiar anxiousness hovering somewhere around her stomach. Like in all those sleepless nights, when she’s tossing and turning, rotating between worrying that Bow might be dead and that he might never forgive her. “What if we won’t, though?”

“Huh?”

“I mean… He was so angry with me. I was terrible to him. And Adora. And what if I never see them again?” she takes a sip unprompted, in an attempt to calm herself down, but it seems to have an opposite effect.

“You will…”

“But what I won’t? What if they die? What if I die here? And I never get to tell them how sorry I am, and-“

“Hey. Hey,” Catra takes the bottle out of her hands and places it on the floor. She looks hazy, and Glimmer notices there must be tears in her eyes. “Of course you will.”

She kneels next to her and puts her hand on Glimmer’s back, somewhat stiffly. After a moment, she clears her throat.

“You know… I have no doubt that those two dorks are on their way to rescue you right now,” she says, awkwardly stroking her shoulder. “They’re going to bust in here, break the doors down, kick my ass and carry you out bridal-style.”

Glimmer bursts out laughing and wipes her eyes aggressively.

“You’re so dumb…” she chuckles.

“I’m telling you, it’s a guarantee.”

“And so drunk.”

“Not nearly drunk enough for this. But I’m right, you’ll see.”

Her hand feels soft and Glimmer realizes she’s retracted her claws.

“Thanks,” Glimmer sniffs loudly. “Do you think we can skip the kicking-your-ass part this time, though?”

“Come on, you gotta let Adora have some fun. She’s like a dog that needs to tire out sometimes.”

“She can take up jogging then. And you can just, you know, come back with us.”

Catra’s mouth visibly tenses, but she doesn’t seem as furious as Glimmer would expect her to.

“Come on. I’m serious,” Glimmer sits up and grabs her shoulders.

“Sparkles-“

“No, come _on_ ,” she shakes her head in an attempt to sharpen her focus. “Okay, so, look. Here’s an assumption – you still care about Adora. And she cares about you, too. Just… come with us.”

Catra shakes her head, stubbornly avoiding her gaze.

“Catra. Please, just… What is it with you two? I wanna hear it.”

“Hasn’t Adora told you about it already?”

“I wanna hear it from you. I want to… understand. What happened. Come on.”

Catra sighs, then shifts herself to lean her back against the bed next to Glimmer, their shoulders touching. She looks up to the ceiling and ponders in silence for a long moment, her finger tracing the bottle’s opening.

“Imagine… you have nobody,” she finally says, voice coloured with an emotion Glimmer has yet to identify. “Except for this one person, who inexplicably cares about you. And the same person also happens to be taking everything away from you – the attention, the recognition, the love… And you love them, but you also hate them a little bit. And they love you, but they always love the place that’s hurting you and the sense of duty that comes along with it a little bit more. And it’s great, and it sucks, and it’s complicated, but it works, because as long as they choose their responsibility over everything else, they’ll stay here, with you, and it means you’re safe.”

There is visible tension at her mouth, as she swallows thickly. Glimmer glances at her, fascinated, but dares not move.

“And then one day they just… leave. All along you thought that if you can’t compete with this higher purpose they had, nothing else can. But it turns out it wasn’t important after all, but what made them realize this wasn’t a lifetime with you, it was… a few hours with some random kids they met in a forest.”

She sighs again, and lifts the bottle up to her lips, gulping down the remainder of the liquor. Glimmer doesn’t speak for a while, just presses their shoulders togethers.

“She wanted you to come with her, though,” her voice is very quiet.

“As an afterthought. A piece of luggage she left behind that had no place in her new life,” Catra says. She doesn’t move away, it feels like she’s pressing against Glimmer just as hard.

“I don’t think she saw you that way. I think… she just didn’t know how you felt.”

Catra exhales sharply. “Yeah, no shit,” she quickly rubs her freckled nose. “So, uh, guess it’s my turn again, huh?”

“We’re out of alcohol,” Glimmer points out.

“We’ll do… push-ups, then. Whatever,” she angrily rubs her nose again. “Here’s an assumption: you really, really fucking hate me and you wouldn’t talk to me if you weren’t absolutely desperate.”

Glimmer blinks quickly.

“How… how many push-ups, then?” she asks, slanting a look at her.

“Let’s say, five. I don’t want to kill you here,” Catra poignantly glances at Glimmer’s arms.

“Well then,” Glimmer shifts herself to face her. “You better get moving, Horde scum.”

Catra looks at her, eyebrows raised.

“I said what I said,” Glimmer straightens her back and places fists on her hips. “Chop, chop.”

“Didn’t you say we’re supposed to be honest?”

“Well, I am,” Glimmer pouts. “I don’t know. Call me crazy, but against all odds… I don’t actually hate you as much anymore.”

“I’m truly touched.”

“Get on the floor.”

“Woah, buy me a dinner first.”

Glimmer laughs and elbows her. She sees the corners of Catra’s lip curling upwards. “For the record, I actually hate you a little less, too.”

“Okay, actually, wait,” Glimmer raises her hands abruptly. “I got one, that I’m pretty sure I’m right about, so might as well let you get done with all the push-ups at once,” she clears her throat. “You. Had a thing. With Scorpia.”

“Define ‘thing’.”

“Let’s say… you kissed.”

They stare each other down for a few seconds, before Catra rolls her eyes and stands up to stretch.

“I take that back. I actually hate you.”

Then she gets back down and does the push-ups.


	4. Catra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thic chapter's cover art was made by the lovely and amazing mariatries!

“Okay - kiss, marry, kill – me, Bow and Adora?” Glimmer asks, voice very serious.

She’s sitting on the bed, hovering over Catra’s head and playing with her hair. It’s not entirely unpleasant.

“Hm…” Catra considers the question, not taking her eyes off the sheet of paper she’s propping up with her knee to idly doodle on.

“Oh, wait. All three are just a Tuesday for you and Adora,” Glimmer snorts with laughter. Catra slants a look at her to see the queen beaming with joy at her own lame joke.

“I hope we really make it back to Etheria,” Catra says, getting back to her drawing. “When that happens, I’m going to disappear. Get off the grid completely.”

“How so?” Glimmer returns to braiding Catra’s hair, still giggling.

“No one will know where I am,” Catra muses. “Eventually people will forget my existence. _You_ will forget – you will have nothing but a vague memory of me completely owning you at checkers back in prison.”

“Well, I _might_ just also remember you leading the Horde and kidnapping me, perhaps.”

“Oh but you won’t. And stop interrupting.”

“Sorry,” she pulls on Catra’s hair lightly.

“And then one day, when you truly don’t see it coming,” Catra carries on. “I will enter Bright Moon in disguise. I will get past your guards and infiltrate the castle. I will sneak into the queen’s chambers.”

She turns to face her.

“…and then I’ll piss on everything you own.”

Glimmer pushes her away, laughing.

“You are seriously the _worst_!”

“Thanks,” Catra says, feeling a small burst of warmth around her chest, which she decides not to think much about right now.

Sneaking into the cell and visiting Glimmer has become a part of her routine at this point. Every day she’d wander around the ship, finding various objects they can possibly play with, snack on or get drunk on, then take them to the queen’s prison cell, where they’d spend the better part of the day enjoying the stolen goods.

Although Catra would much rather down another bottle of the wine-like beverage than examine her own feelings about it, she has to admit the entire experience is quite… liberating.

Ever since the day she got promoted to Force Captain, it felt like she’s spent nearly every waking moment working. And then, whenever she wasn’t working, she was thinking about work, endlessly going over plans and schemes in her head, point by point, as if hoping to keep the Horde running smoothly with her mind alone. One time Scorpia practically dragged her to have a picnic with her and Entrapta – Catra spent the entire time checking her tablet for weaponry supplies stats, occasionally lifting her head if someone happened to say the word “Adora”. She can’t quite remember the last time she just let herself pass the time in such a completely unproductive way and didn’t feel any gut-wrenching guilt over it.

It was probably the night she and Adora stole that skiff.

And now, with Prime apparently having absolutely no use in her whether in life or death, Catra truly finds herself out of work. There is nothing to do, nothing to plan, nothing to obsessively stress over, and, as Double Trouble have pointed out ever so kindly, no one left that would even care about what she’s up to.

So she ends up getting her hair braided by one of the strongest contenders for the title of her least favourite person. The absurdity of the situation is one of those things that doesn’t seem to wear off.

Although, maybe Sparkles has managed to move down a few ranks over the past days.

“There!” Glimmer throws something over Catra’s shoulder and she realizes it’s her own hair. “You actually look good.”

“I appreciate the bare minimum of sarcasm in your voice.” Catra says, already starting to untangle the braid.

“Aaaww, of course you ruined it,” Glimmer pouts. “And I wasn’t being sarcastic, it looked good, like, you finally didn’t have that perpetual ominous shadow over your face. Although now that I’ve said it, I realize that was probably the whole point.”

Catra responds by pointing finger guns at her.

“If you came to Bright Moon, I would give you _such_ a makeover,” Glimmer sighs, throwing herself onto bed with a soft thump.

“That’s why I never come over. That is the only reason.”

“I thought you said you were going to come over and piss on my stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. Just this once. We’ll have a great pissing, slash, makeover session.”

“So, a pissing over.”

This is so ridiculous that Catra just can’t help throwing her head back in laughter. She turns around again, stretching to poke Glimmer in the ribs.

“You’re _such_ an id-…” she stops herself mid-word and feigns a coughing fit into her elbow instead.

“You’re okay?” Glimmer rolls onto her belly and slaps her between shoulder blades a few times. “Darn, here I was, already starting to hope you _don’t_ die on me here.”

Catra coughs one more time for good measure. “I’m fine.”

“Good. I’d have a hard time explaining your corpse to Prime,” Glimmer grins at her. “Was that an allergic reaction to your hair not looking like you’ve been sticking forks into sockets?”

“I have every right to look like this, then. You know how many times Shadow Weaver’s zapped me when I was a kid?”

Glimmer sits up quickly, her tone changing instantly. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

Catra shrugs. Few days prior, they’ve had some alcohol again and spent the entire night talking about her. Catra wasn’t too shocked to learn that Glimmer’s father had been one of the first of Shadow Weaver’s protegees, or that she seemed to have set her sights on the daughter next. She’s always been an absolute delight to those she could manipulate into doing her bidding and a nightmare to those she didn’t find immediately useful. What was surprising, though, was hearing that Adora actually spoke against her, for once. She was always a little slow on the uptake, but when it came to Shadow Weaver, Catra was pretty certain Adora would never internalize how evil she actually was. Way too prove her wrong, some three years after it would have been actually useful, huh.

She doesn’t know why, but telling Glimmer about Shadow Weaver doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it should. Maybe it’s just how they are now. Or maybe their relationship has become this unfiltered because on some level, Catra doesn’t think it’s likely for both of them to leave this ship alive and she just doesn’t say it aloud for not wanting to upset her only companion about it.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” Glimmer puts a hand on Catra’s shoulder. Catra can’t see her face, but she just knows she has this infuriatingly concerned expression. It reminds her way too much of Adora.

“Yes, Sparkles. Sometimes I say disturbing shit casually just to throw you off your game a little.”

Glimmer sits up straight behind her.

“I knew it!”

“Next time we have a showdown, I’m going to spend an inordinate amount of time telling you about my sad childhood and the story behind my mask.”

“Do you mean the one you’re wearing right now… or the one you put on in front of everybody, so no one can see the real you?”

Catra feels compelled to groan loudly while sinking onto the floor completely. Glimmer grins at her, hovering over from the bed.

“For real, with all your tiara hate, why are you wearing this?” she taps her nails quickly over Catra’s masked forehead.

“It’s not a tiara.”

“It sure looks a whole lot like one.”

“It’s not—It works as a hairband, okay. I don’t have Adora’s magical hair that glows and levitates behind her without any wind blowing necessary.”

“Why not just tie your hair back?”

“Because this… looks… better,” Catra says, fixing the mask on her face. Glimmer tilts a completely unconvinced look at her. “…and maybe I don’t like my hairline very much.” Catra adds in a rush.

Glimmer presses the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle a laugh in a less-than-subtle way.

“Oh _, shut up_!” Catra covers her face with her palms, half-convinced that Glimmer is about to forcefully rip her mask off, but nothing of the sort happens.

“And here I was, thinking you must have accidentally glued it to your face once and now you’re just playing it cool.”

“Shut. Your entire face. Up,” Catra sits up and tries to grab a pillow, but Glimmer snatches it out of her reach. “Ugh, look. I used to have bangs, but they got in my eyes during training. One day Shadow Weaver threatened to shave my head unless I pulled my hair back, and this…” she points at her mask. “…was the only option that didn’t make me look like a complete dweeb.”

“Weeeeell…”

Catra stretches her hands, poignantly showing her claws off.

“Come on, I’m kidding!” Glimmer shuffles on the bed to sit up. Clearly, she likes feeling taller. “And was this one of those times? When you say some sad things to throw me off?”

“Perhaps.”

“Booo. Get some new material!” she swings a pillow in her direction. “But for the record, that sounds horrible, I’m sorry, and I hope Shadow Weaver chokes on a moldy piece of toast.”

“Why, thank you, princess.”

“Also, I’m pretty decent at cutting hair. I can give you your bangs back if you want.”

“Trying to set up a hair salon onboard of the Velvet Glove, I see? Do you even have scissors here?”

“Well, I actually left them on my dressing table back in Bright Moon.”

“Your…” Catra lifts her eyes up. “Oh. Oooh, you sneaky little shit. Did you really just..?”

The corners of Glimmer’s lips turn slightly upward, by way of admission.

In response, Catra lightly punches her arm. “You really thought you were being smooth, huh? Sure, I’ll be joining your dumb rebellion for a haircut. If only Adora thought of that earlier.”

“If only…” Glimmer sighs, then yawns. “Well, since it doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere soon, I still have plenty of time to work on you. We’ll get there, eventually.”

Catra gently closes her eyes for a second to collect her patience, but decides not to bother arguing about that.

“Here,” she finally hands Glimmer a piece of paper with a drawing she’s been working on.

Glimmer grabs it excitedly, nearly ripping the page in half, to look at a little more than a stick figure of herself. “Oooh… Wow, this is amazing!”

“Pff, please,” Catra thinks that Glimmer has either never seen any drawing in her life before, or must be trying really hard to butter her up. She used to like drawing and doodled a lot in her days as a cadet, but it was one of those things the Horde could never find a use for, so it was discouraged. She never got any good at it.

“I mean it! I… I look so powerful.”

“I know!” Catra lifts herself up to sit by her. “Here, I’ll add an autograph. One day it will be worth millions.”

“Or,” Glimmer says, lifting the paper out of Catra’s reach. “Get another sheet and draw Bow next!”

“I don’t have a persistent image of him in my brain. I need a reference.”

“Who else can you draw then? The clones? Go visit Prime and offer to paint him a portrait?”

“He’d probably love it,” Catra mutters, still trying to reach the paper.

“Oh, what about Adora?” Glimmer exclaims, standing up on the bed fully.

Catra slumps down immediately and lets out a theatrically long sigh. “What about her, again?”

“Well, you surely remember what she looks like. Draw her.”

“What is this, a requests night? Besides, I don’t remember _that_ well. She’s got… long hair, and a tiara… A miniskirt, I suppose…”

“You’re describing She-ra, not Adora.”

“Yeah, potato potahto.”

“Draw her and I’ll give you that haircut for free.”

“It won’t be for free then, will it…” Catra mumbles, while placing tip of the pen back on another sheet of paper. “Let’s see… here’s her head… She has two eyes, I guess, and a nose… And a ginormous hair poof…”

Glimmer snorts loudly. “You’ve made it bigger than her entire head.”

“I’m going for realism here, Sparkles. Okay, her dumb pony tail… Does she still wear that stupid red jacket?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Glimmer whines. “Can’t tell you how many times I felt tempted to throw that thing into the fire and claim accident.” She shifts on the bed. “Wait, I’m not being horribly insensitive right now, am I? Does it have a supersad backstory, like your mask?”

“I’m honestly envious of your life, if you thought that story was supersad,” Catra says, leaning closer to the paper and squinting her eyes in concentration. “The jacket’s story is more of a ‘Look what I found in this pile, Catra! It makes my shoulders look so ripped!’”

“You’re not the best at impressions, are you?” Glimmer tilts her head, yawning.

“ _You’re not the best at impressions, are you_?”

Glimmer pokes her arm repeatedly.

“Do you want me to finish that drawing or not?” Catra asks. She promptly adds finishing touches, adding a large speech bubble and writing “FOR THE HONOR OF GAYSKULL” inside of it, before handing the finished piece to the queen. “Here. My masterpiece.”

“Woah…” She takes the paper in her hands with reverence. “This is honestly so much better than the royal portrait we ordered for her.”

Catra groans. “She has _a royal portrait_?”

“And she said you’d never let her live it down if you knew.”

“You’re telling me there is _a royal portrait_ of Adora somewhere in Bright Moon, and you’ve been trying to lure me in there with pissing and makeovers and the power of friendship? It’s like you people truly don’t know me,” Catra shakes her head disappointedly.

“Why is she standing like this, though? Like one of her legs is higher up?” Glimmer points at the drawing.

“She’s standing on something. It’s a victory pose, I don’t know.”

“What is she standing on?”

“You can draw me under her heel,” Catra hands her the pen.

“Maybe later,” Glimmer puts the drawing down carefully and stifles another yawn, laying down on her back.

Catra gets up and sits on the bed next to her. “Okay, you’ve gotta stop that. You’re making me wanna yawn.”

Glimmer sighs. “Can’t help that I’m sleep deprived, you know.”

“Why would you be? I thought all you do when I’m not here is sleep.”

“I… can’t, exactly.” Glimmer’s tone changes and Catra can see her biting her lip. She hesitates for just a second – there is a small voice at the back of her head that reminds her this is a princess she’s sitting with, after all, one that stole Adora from her at that. But then again, does she still care about that? Does she still care about _anything_?

“Hey,” she clears her throat. “You can tell me.”

Glimmer’s breath catches in surprise. “Tell you what?”

“Whatever the hell it is that doesn’t let you sleep.” Catra pauses, but then goes on before letting the silence become too awkward. “Look, I know our… arrangement usually doesn’t involve deep heart-to-hearts, unless we’re too drunk to remember about it afterwards, but… I suppose the whole point of this is to make ourselves feel a bit better, so… You can tell me. If you think that would help.”

She forces a laugh, feeling a treacherous warmth creeping up her cheeks. She hasn’t felt so awkward since trying to flirt with Adora in the Horde’s locker room, only for her to remain completely oblivious to the attempts. If Glimmer points out her blush right now, she may need to actually jump off the ship and let herself get sucked into the void.

But Glimmer either doesn’t notice, or decides to mercifully ignore it. “It’s really not anything new,” she says, shrugging. “Just… worried about things. Bow and Adora, mostly. But also how all of this is going to end.” She gestures broadly around herself.

“All of this?”

“Well… you know. This. Us, being on this ship.”

Ah. There it is.

Catra was genuinely wondering if the subject of what’s going to happen to them was ever bound to come up between them. They both did a pretty good job of keeping things down to oblique references and jokes that relieved the tension, but ultimately that was the thing keeping them both preoccupied whenever they were apart.

“I mean, it’s been weeks already,” Glimmer carries on. “Right? I’m not even sure how much time has passed. But you know, we’re here and we don’t know anything and can’t do anything, and sometimes it’s nice because we get to do dumb shit like this-“ she waves her hands between the two of them. “-but then I just know there are things happening outside, without us. And this suspension we’re in is going to end and we’ll have to do something next… well, either that or Prime will just kill us. I don’t know if I’m making any sense now.”

She trails off, releasing the air from her chest in a long and weary sigh.

That small part of Catra, one that used to be so much louder up until recently, takes great offense in how often Glimmer uses the words “we” or “us”. The bigger part of her is really tired of the former, though, and tells it to shut the fuck up.

“Yeah, I… guess you do,” she says, slanting a look at Glimmer. “I try not to think about it too much, because, like you said, can’t do a lot about it.”

“I know, I know,” Glimmer shakes her head. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I know that you can’t help that either, and I’m just upsetting you.”

“Since when exactly do you care about upsetting me, Sparkles? Yesterday you insisted on blowing in my ear hard enough to give me pneumonia just because you said it was twitching cutely.”

“Oh, because it was!” There is a small smile in Glimmer’s voice and for some reason it makes Catra feel successful. “But you know what I mean. Like, genuinely upsetting you.”

Catra knows. What she does not know is what to do with a realization of how much their relationship has changed. How did this even happen? And how come she couldn’t have that with Scorpia, or Entrapta, or even Double Trouble?

“Would it help if you got some actual sleep?” she asks.

“I think so. Why?”

“I can try doing something that I think might help,” she already regrets saying that and really wishes she had some alcohol on her right now.

“Like what?” Glimmer gives her an incredulous look.

“It’s a… trick,” Catra says, feeling herself blushing again. “I know it sounds dumb, but it used to work on Adora pretty much every time, so maybe it would help you, too.”

“It used to work on _Adora_? That sounds suspicious,” Glimmer chuckles. “That girl’s wound up so tight she can double as a clock, there’s no power that can make her relax. What did you do, punch the back of her neck? Spike her milkshake?”

“No, it’s… ugh,” Catra stands up. “Let’s just try it, okay? Just lie down and close your dumb eyes.”

Glimmer laughs shortly, but complies. Catra kneels by the bed, her hand touching the back of Glimmer’s.

“Just so we’re clear,” she mutters. “If we do get out of here and you tell anyone about this, I’m going to murder you.”

“Mmm, death threats always made me so sleepy,” Glimmer smiles, eyes still shut.

Catra takes a deep breath. She really hasn’t done that in what feels like ages and isn’t even sure why she’s willing to try it now. For a weird moment, she wonders if she still can.

She decides to close her eyes too, and pictures Adora.

Not the She-ra, bullshit Adora, but _her_ Adora. Round cheeks, blue eyes, dark eyebrows that are stuck in a perpetual slight frown. Stupid, naïve, lovely Adora.

She slowly lets out a breath together with a low purr. The sound escaping her throat feels so familiar and foreign simultaneously. She feels Glimmer stirring slightly in surprise, but then settling down, as Catra continues purring.

She focuses intensely on the image of Adora in her head. Adora, looking over the Fright Zone from their roof spot, face illuminated by the red security lights. Adora, in her disgusting sweaty training suit, waving the staff around skilfully. Adora, laughing so hard at lunch, water comes out her nostrils.

Adora, lying next to her, holding her hand, looking at her like she’s everything, and Catra being able to pretend, just for a moment, that maybe she is.

“Don’t worry about Octavia,” Adora whispers. “One day, when we’re Force Captains, we’ll tell her to give us all of her grey portions.”

Catra snorts with laughter into her palm. She can already hear Lonnie shifting in bed and she’d rather not deal with her calling Shadow Weaver on them again.

“She’s a Force Captain too, dummy. She wouldn’t have to listen to us.”

“Then we’ll become bigger Force Captains. Force Commanders!”

“That’s not a thing.”

“We’ll make it a thing!”

It’s dark, but Catra’s eyes can see Adora’s face perfectly - she’s smiling with that big, sweet idiot smile of hers.

“So you’re saying we’ll basically need to outrank Hordak?”

“We could do that. We’ll make ourselves the Horde queens, and conquer Etheria. I know there’s just one throne, so you can take it, I’d look like an absolute dipshit on it.”

“You mean more so than now, or..?”

Adora pokes her sides and she has to stifle another laugh.

But there is also sadness clutching at her throat. Adora really means it, she wants this life, and she believes they can actually have it.

“Adora?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just thinking…” Catra chews on her lip for a moment. “Is this really what you want?”

She can see Adora’s eyebrows going up.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, this whole Force Captain thing. Is it what you want to do in life?”

Adora takes a moment, gripping Catra’s hand tightly.

“Well, there’s not much of a choice in career here, right?” she chuckles quietly.

“I know, just… what if we’d go somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

“Like literally anywhere but here. Then we could do something else.”

“I don’t get it, Catra. Do you want to do something else?”

“Maybe,” Catra says. “I’m curious what’s out there, is all.” Except the truth is a little closer to the little pout in Adora’s lips and the way Catra can’t stop herself from imagining how they’d feel like touching hers.

“There are princesses out there, that’s for sure,” Adora smiles, but Catra can feel the tightness in her chest increasing. “Come on, Catra. You’ll be great as a Force Captain, I’m sure! And we can make the new flags out of Kyle’s pants then, how amazing is that?”

She doesn’t get it. She’ll never get it. The best Catra can hope for is to spend her life in the Horde by her side.

She forces a smile, glad that Adora’s sight is not keen enough to see the details of her face now.

“Catra?” Adora squeezes her hand again.

“Yeah?”

She grabs her arm and shakes it a little bit.

“Catra!”

“What!” Catra opens her eyes.

She sees Glimmer’s concerned face, bathed in bright light, in front of her.

“You fell asleep and I can hear a clone coming,” she says in an urgent whisper.

Catra blinks a few times, trying to reset her brain. Was it another mealtime already? How long have they been asleep?

Without another word, she jumps straight to her hiding spot. Glimmer manages to cover herself up with a blanket and feign sleep by the time the guard enters and Catra slips out.

She then spends a good while walking through the corridors, trying to settle down. It’s hard to even pinpoint which made her more distraught – her practically tucking in the Queen of the Rebellion she’s supposed to be fighting, or her thinking about Adora like that.

It’s like she hasn’t allowed herself to think about Adora with anything but anger in years and now all the feelings she’s been storing in some deep, shameful place, came spilling out. As embarrassing, even revolting as it is, Catra’s wishes Adora was here now. She would tell her… She’s not sure. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. They’d just sit together, letting the silence stretch between them like a thread, and it would be enough.

Walking fast, past another corner, Catra nearly bumps into a clone. She recoils instantly, tail bushy, her claws extending reflexively.

The clone just looks at her with what looks like a calm amusement on his face.

“Little sister,” he says, sending a shiver down her spine. “Lord Prime requests your presence.”


	5. Glimmer

When the clone number 497 leaves the cell carrying an empty tray the next day, and Glimmer looks around to see no sign of Catra anywhere, she’s surprised but not worried. She half-expected her to flee in terror once she’s realized she made herself too vulnerable for her liking. Glimmer imagines she ran off to cower somewhere in a dark corner, calculating the exact amount of time she needs to stay away from their hangouts in order to play it cool.

But when several more mealtimes pass by and Catra doesn’t show, there is a tiny hint of concern lodging itself somewhere at the back of Glimmer’s mind. It’s still probably nothing, but now there’s a possibility, a miniscule one, that perhaps it’s something. It grows every time the green door flickers closed and Glimmer looks around but sees no glowing mismatched eyes underneath a nest of dark hair.

The isolation and idleness probably makes her overthink things, but by the third day, she begins toying with the idea of asking one of the clones for Catra.

As if she doesn’t already have enough to worry about, Glimmer thinks angrily, lying on the bed with her feet propped high up against the wall.

The thing is, she can’t quite bring herself to fully reflect on why she feels that way, exactly. It isn’t a purely selfish desire to have someone to distract her in her own plight, but she doesn’t think she cares much what happens to Catra either. It’s not like they’re friends - they both made it abundantly clear that their ceasefire was born out of absolute necessity. Glimmer wants Catra to join them, sure, but it’s really mostly for strategic purposes, and Adora, to an extent.

And yet, the second Glimmer notices a smudge of movement by the green door out of the corner of her eye, she feels a wave of relief washing over her. She wills herself not to look in that direction until she’s well sure that the guard is gone, then turns around to face Catra, her cheeks a little puffed.

“Nice of you to show,” she says, folding her arms angrily, just about ready to deliver some strong arguments until Catra apologizes for effectively ghosting her.

But then, with a start, she notices Catra’s face.

It looks _greyer_ , drained it of all the usual colour. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles around them, her mouth is a thin, tense line. Her hair looks matted and disheveled, as if she’s spent the entire time pulling on and twisting it.

“What the hell happened to you?” Glimmer walks up to her, the concern making itself known in her voice. “You look like shit.”

Catra opens her mouth, but then closes it, scrubbing a hand across her face.

“I don’t… really want to talk about it,” she says, shaking her head lightly.

“But-“

“Look, it’s nothing, okay?” Catra walks around her to sink heavily into the bed. “I just really don’t feel like talking about it now.”

This withdrawn, secretive side of her really starts to get on Glimmer’s nerves. It’s truly hard to believe that there used to be a time when Glimmer thought Catra was so obvious, just an immature, spiteful brat with nothing else of interest to be found underneath the surface. She sometimes misses the simplicity of those times. Now the more they talk, the more incomprehensible she is.

“It’s not fair, you know,” Glimmer gives her a hard glare.

“What’s not?”

“I mean… This would have been mildly annoying under regular circumstances, but the way things are now? You get to walk out and disappear for days without an explanation and I just have to put up with it, no questions asked?” she huffs.

“No, you don’t have to. You can tell me to leave,” Catra offers.

“Yeah, see, that’s basically blackmail, isn’t it? _‘You put up with my bullshit or I go and you can rot in here’_ , that’s hardly fair, huh?”

“Geez,” Catra exhales heavily. “How come you care so much about fairness all of a sudden?”

“I always care about fairness.”

“ _Really_ ,” Catra looks up at her with exhausted eyes. “You, the Queen of Bright Moon, caring about fairness?”

“Why is this in any way strange to you?”

“Forget it,” she grumbles.

Glimmer throws her hands up in exasperation. “Oh great, here we go again!”

“Which part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ did you think was up for debate? I don’t want to argue right now, how come it’s so hard to understand?” Catra says, crossing arms and holding herself protectively.

“It is, if you’re ghosting me for days and then imply that you think I’m a hypocrite!”

“Ugh!” She hides her face behind the crook of her elbow. “You’re just like _her_ , you know. You’re just keep pushing and pushing!”

“We wouldn’t have to push, if you just told us what how you’re feeling like a normal person instead of bottling it up!”

“Geez, will you ever stop it! Always bugging me about my _feelings_ and _Adora_ ,” she claps a hand over her face and slowly wipes it across. “How about this, Glimmer – I’m _not ready_ to talk about this now. Can we please talk about something else.”

That effectively shuts Glimmer’s face up. She sinks down into a chair and leans forward.

“Okay,” she concedes. “But are you sure you’re alright? Like, medically speaking. Because it sounded like you just got possessed by someone who’s a whole lot more emotionally mature than you.”

“Screw you,” a corner of Catra’s mouth quirks up and, for a moment, even her eyes look a bit more alive. “I’m just full of surprises. You still know nothing about me.”

Yup, definitely missing the simpler times.

“Oh good, there’s the Horde Scum I know,” Glimmer smiles back. She finally takes a moment to scan Catra’s hands. “No booze today? No snacks?”

“Let’s say I’ve had some difficulties. Plus, I figured you must have a sizeable stash of your own at this point,” she lifts up the edge of the mattress to rummage through Glimmer’s collection. “Let’s see, want some peanuts?”

She throws a packet in Glimmer’s direction and opens one for herself. They spend a good minute quietly chewing their snacks. It’s strangely soothing, really – Glimmer is reminded of the peaceful afternoons she spent with Bow and Adora in her room. They didn’t even talk, each of them doing their own thing, just sharing snacks and space.

“So,” Catra is the one to break the silence eventually. “I was thinking how you’re always pushing me to talk about my life, but barely mention yours, really.”

“I talk about it all the time?” Glimmer points the packet at Catra, feigning terror. “I knew there was something wrong. You have amnesia, don’t you?”

Catra makes a strangled noise. “You talk about Bow and Adora a lot, not your life.”

“Lately they’ve been occupying a big chunk of my life, you know.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Catra waves her hand dismissively. “I meant like, your childhood. What’s it like growing up a princess in a castle?”

Glimmer’s breath catches in surprise. “Are you… really interested in that sort of stuff?”

“Yeah, sure. Well, the Horde’s been teaching us some outright insane things about you people, but I’m pretty sure Adora was the only one innocent enough to buy it.”

“Bless her soul,” Glimmer sighs theatrically.

“You wanna tell me what it’s really like then?” Catra asks, before tossing a peanut into the air to catch it with her mouth.

Glimmer gawks at her for a bit and clears her throat. “I mean… I could tell you, it’s just… a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“Well…” Glimmer gestures as if to illustrate her thought process. “It always feels a bit weird talking about it without sounding like I’m a spoiled little shit.”

She feels herself blushing, when Catra bursts out laughing. “Oh, Sparkles. I always think you’re a spoiled little shit, so you might as well tell me.”

Glimmer pouts, her face getting warmer. “I hate you with a passion beyond reason.”

Catra blows a kiss in her direction.

Then Glimmer starts talking. She tells Catra about Bright Moon’s castle, rooms with high-ceilings, shiny immaculate marble floors and ornately carved windows overlooking vibrant gardens. How she used to flicker unwillingly before learning to teleport and ended up on the roof once when she was four. Her mother was absolutely mortified as she flew up to retrieve her, but Glimmer mostly remembers a breath taking sight and how she first fully understood there was a world outside their castle and has been dying to see all of it ever since. She talks about her first meeting with Bow and how things were when there was just the two of them. His first arrows and crooked shots. Her trying to show off and teleporting until she collapsed. The ridiculous dance routines they practiced before balls in matching outfits.

She tells Catra how she was five when she realized they were at war with the Horde and wanted nothing more than to fight them. How her mother had to put a shielding spell over the briefing room to stop her from teleporting into it. How she couldn’t sleep the entire night once mother finally let her join the council and fell asleep in the middle of her first meeting as a result.

Catra listens intently, going through her second pack of peanuts. To her credit, she limits her eye rolls to a minimum.

“Sounds like you still did better than I,” she says, licking the salt off her fingers. “I skipped my Force Captain briefing. Scorpia had to get me up to speed on every little dumb thing later.”

“I’d rather not think how much of a pain in the ass you’d have been, had you not skipped it,” Glimmer stretches her lips in a smile and throws a peanut that bounces of Catra’s mask.

“Oh trust me, once I finally learn all the supply shipment routes, it’s all over for you.”

Glimmer releases a long-suffering sigh.

“There’s so much bullshit you need to manage when you’re in charge. Nobody ever tells you that.”

“Right? I once spent ten hours straight over spreadsheets on machine productivity, by the end I started wishing Adora would show up to kick my ass just so I could feel alive again!”

“And those endless meetings! I used to think it was just the Princess Council, but then there were so many advisors, and diplomats, and merchants I’ve had to talk to… I thought my face would get stuck in that permanent polite smile I had to put on,” she groans, massaging her cheeks. “And all those people talking to me like we’ve been besties for years when I couldn’t remember their names half the time.”

“Oh, I’ve never had that problem,” Catra grins. “The best my people can do is to temporarily stop talking shit about me when I walk into the room.”

Glimmer laughs heartily. “I thought it was just our side hating your guts?”

“Sparkles, when I said no one wants me back on Etheria, I meant it,” Catra chews on the last of her peanuts before crumpling the packet and tossing it aside. “I guess in the end, neither one of us was all that great at our jobs.”

“Eh. We did get _some_ things done.”

“Yes, most notably, this thing,” Catra gestures at the ship all around them. “Couldn’t have done this without you, my dear Sparkles.”

Glimmer bites her lip, feeling instantly deflated. Despite her exhaustion, Catra is quick to notice.

“Hey, don’t feel too bad,” she says. “At least you meant well. All I wanted at the time was to fuck shit up.”

“I wonder if I did,” Glimmer sighs. “Or if this was really just a way for me to prove myself to everyone. Show them that I’m just as capable as my mother.”

A heavy silence falls between them.

If there is one thing that no amount of talking and playing cards can erase, it’s Angella’s demise and the role Catra had in it. There were times when Glimmer wanted to murder Catra on sight for all of it, but now she struggles to think of what to say to her. There seems to be an unspoken agreement between them to leave the subject well enough alone, though.

They need each other to survive now, and there’s no way they can still stand to be around each other if they start talking about this.

“I wonder,” Catra speaks eventually. “Why haven’t you said anything about your dad?”

Glimmer feels her stomach dropping just a little. “What.”

“I mean, through all of your monologue today, you haven’t mentioned him once,” Catra tilts her head at her. “In fact, I can’t recall you mentioning him more than once since we’re on Prime’s ship.”

“I-…” Glimmer stutters. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned him, you just don’t remember.”

“And I’m sure you haven’t. Talk about repressed feelings, huh?”

“Now you’re just projecting,” Glimmer snarks.

Catra slants a look at her. “Am I, though? Let’s see, you’ve spent most of your life believing him dead, only to find out he’s back, just as you’ve gone on a long space vacation aboard this ship,” Catra waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m not exactly an expert, but I suspect this is something that could possibly evoke emotions in some people. And yet, you’ve never mentioned it.”

Glimmer’s eyes dart to the side. “Maybe you just never asked about him before.”

“I never asked you to tell me about that one dream about Bow you’ve had in excruciating detail, and that didn’t stop you. I can tell you’ve been avoiding this topic.”

Glimmer hugs one knee to her chest. “It’s just… I don’t really remember him that well. My entire life everyone’s been telling me things about him. And I don’t just mean, mom sitting me down on her lap and telling me a hour-long story about how they met, or that time he saved a peace treaty by creating a magic light show at a banquet. I mean, mom and aunt would mention him constantly, so much I doubt they were even aware of it.”

She smiles to herself, looking down at her fingernails. “When I was being stubborn, mom would mention how much I take after my father, or when I made a face, aunt Casta would call me ‘tiny Micah’. They were those little bits of information and I used to automatically memorize and categorize all of them into this big pile of Dad Files in my brain. Like, I know my dad likes lemon cupcakes, sneezes loudly and falls asleep if you leave him sitting in the garden for more than a minute, but I’ve never _seen_ him do any of that, you know?”

Catra nods, looking at her steadily.

“So at some point I’ve used all those files and created this imaginary dad in my head,” Glimmer carries on. “It was comforting, somehow. He was perfect, and I felt like I knew him that way. But… he was dead. I was so sure that this make-believe dad was the only one I was ever gonna have, and…” She trails off, biting down on her lip.

But Catra’s ears perk up in understanding. “…and now you’re worried that he’s not going to be what you imagined.”

Glimmer gives her a crooked shrug. “I know he’s not. I’m not naïve enough to believe he would be.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I guess… I’m worried that I won’t be able to let go of the imaginary dad. I’ll meet the real one and won’t be able to have a relationship with him because of it,” she exhales slowly. “Or worse yet, what if I’m not what he’s pictured me to be? What if we finally meet and we’re both just… disappointed?”

She rubs her forehead, looking down on the floor tiles. Few seconds pass before she can hear Catra’s weight shifting on the bed.

“I’m not exactly an expert on parents,” she says quietly. “But I think you’ll be fine.”

Glimmer’s breath catches. “Sorry.”

“What the hell for?”

“See, I didn’t want to go into the subject, because it feels so idiotic complaining about this to you of all people.”

Catra tenses up slightly and he tail swings a little to the side. “Why?”

“Because you have it so much worse than I do in that department. You must be thinking I should be happy and I’m creating problems for myself for no reason.”

“If I were thinking that, I would say it. Although honestly, I’m not sure what to say either. What would your friends say if you told them all this?”

Though it all, Glimmer smiles to herself at the picture. “Adora would probably stay up all night to make a huge spreadsheet of all the possible scenarios to help me plan our meeting in advance, then suggest to wear an earpiece so she could offer me tips from some book on father-daughter relationships. And Bow would comfort and hug me and then be there for when I first see him as my emotional support squeeze.”

“Well, dammit. I was just about to offer that.”

“Too bad. And you’re way too lanky to be my squeeze, anyway.”

A beat of silence, again.

“I became disillusioned with Shadow Weaver long before Adora left,” Catra says finally. “I didn’t have any hopes for her to suddenly wake up and be a real mother to me. But when she was about to killed, I… could have done just about anything to save her.”

Glimmer’s eyes snap back up on her. “You think you loved her? Despite everything?”

“I’m not sure I did. I think I just got scared,” Catra says, voice just an octave too high. “She’s a spiteful, evil woman, and our relationship was crap, not the regular crap either, more like a post-competitive-burrito-eating crap. But if she died, then… I’d have to fully and finally accept that now there is no chance it will ever be any less crap.”

“That sounds… depressing.”

“My point is, you’re getting your dad back. You might have a great relationship with him, or a shitty one, or even boring, averagely amicable one. But you will have something.”

She gives Glimmer the most earnest look she’s seen from her yet.

“That… oddly enough makes me feel better. Although I wonder if it was in part you throwing me off again by telling me sad things about your life.”

“Always at your service, Queen Muffin-face.”

Glimmer nods and lets the rhythm of their banter die out. Since Catra is busy staring at her feet, she takes the opportunity to study her face and the shadows of expressions passing over it.

“When do you think you’ll be ready?” she asks, reaching over to poke Catra’s knee.

“Hm?” Catra raises her head.

“To tell me what happened.”

For a moment, there’s no sound but a steady hum of the ship.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “And look, I know this must be annoying. All I can tell you is that… I don’t think this is going to last much longer.”

She doesn’t need to specify what she means.

“What makes you say that?” Glimmer asks, feeling her throat drying up.

“Honestly, it’s just a feeling I have,” Catra glances up at her, hesitant. “Though, if it’s any consolation… Well, I think I may have found a way for us to escape.”

Glimmer’s mouth drops open at that.

“You _what_?” she stands up abruptly enough to upset the empty glasses on the little table. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?!”

“Emphasis on ‘ _I think’_!” Catra raises her palms defensively. “It’s nothing certain, so, don’t get your hopes up.”

“It’s too late for that! My hopes are way up already!” Glimmer jumps up to the bed to sit herself by Catra’s side.

“Well, put them back down then!”

“I can’t! You have to tell me more!”

“It’s… too dangerous,” Catra moves away an inch. “Just, act normally, okay? If something happens, I’ll let you know.”

Glimmer stands back up again and loudly cracks her knuckles.

“What are you doing?” Catra arches an eyebrow at her.

“Acting normally. Getting ready to throw hands.”

Catra snorts with laughter and rolls herself onto bed. “Have I mentioned that you’re an absolute nightmare lately?”

Glimmer sinks into bed, gently pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You know I was… worried, when you were gone,” she says. Catra gives her a confused look.

“Well, I’m fine, as you can see.”

“Except I can’t, really? You show up here looking like this and expect me to just be cool about it?”

Catra rubs her eyes forcefully, giving them an even more bloodshot look. “I’m really okay though. Just tired, I’m sure you know the feeling.”

Glimmer leans over her. “Do you want me to try something to help you relax?”

“I don’t think you… doing what I did last time would be helpful to me,” Catra clears her throat, cheeks gaining a slight shade of pink at the memory. “Plus, I shouldn’t be sleeping here.”

“Oh, I’m not going to purr at you, don’t worry. I just… Can I take your mask off for a bit?”

Catra’s eyes snap open at that.

“Why?” her hands grab the mask’s edged instantly, as if she expects Glimmer to snatch it off her face any second.

“Always wanted to try it on and see if I feel more badass that way,” she deadpans. “I just want to touch your hair, dummy. You’ll get it back.” Seeing Catra’s hesitant expression, she adds: “And I’ll try my hardest not to make fun of your hairline.”

Catra rolls her eyes, but a corner of her lip quirks up. She carefully pulls her mask up and places it by the pillow, then closes her eyes.

Glimmer touches the scrunched up spot between her eyebrows. “Are you even aware how much you’re constantly frowning?”

“Shut up,” Catra mumbles, keeping her eyes closed.

Glimmer chuckles, then slowly runs her fingers through the thickness of Catra’s mane.

This was something her mom used to do to soothe her when she was little. It didn’t always manage to make her drowsy, but she always liked it nonetheless, especially when she paired it up with a story told in a quiet voice. It was such an intense feeling of being loved and protected. She really misses it.

“I tried this on Adora a couple of times, but she’s completely immune,” she whispers. Catra smiles and hums in agreement, her face finally relaxing, as Glimmer continues stroking her hair. “It might be that your purring is the only thing that can actually put her to sleep.”

“Are you saying she hasn’t slept in three years?” Catra asks back in a groggy voice.

“Barely. It’s a shame you haven’t joined us along with her, would be interesting to know Adora who isn’t perpetually sleep deprived.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Catra yawns. “What would it be like. If I had gone with her back then.”

“I would have roped you in to do all my paperwork for me by now, that’s for sure,” Glimmer says. “That and, we probably wouldn’t be in all this mess right now.”

“Mmm,” Catra agrees.

Glimmer isn’t sure how much time they spend like this, exactly. At some point Catra dozes off, while she continues gently untangling her hair, lost in thought.

Okay, so, maybe it’s stupid of her. Maybe it’s an insult to her mother’s memory. But Glimmer has no choice but to admit to herself that she’s grown to care about this depressed, snarky, triangle-eared, complex ball of weird emotions Horde Scum.

And now she finds herself wondering if there’s any chance for both of them to get back home safely.


End file.
